


Two Weeks

by orphan_account



Series: Summer [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Autistic Jack, Bitty visits Jack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jewish Jack, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Relationship Discussions, Secret Relationship, Summer in Providence, first summer together, thoughts about coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10090757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was two weeks before the start of term and Bitty was spending it in Jack’s apartment.  Jack, who would be busy with hockey, but would come home to Bitty every night.  To his bed where Bitty would wait for him.  To his kitchen Bitty would fill with cookies and pies.  To his living room where Bitty would sit and watch TV and put his feet on the table when Jack wasn’t looking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quick one-shot to get my bearings back for writing since my hiatus is over on Monday. Ish. I'll be in book-writing mode, but I'll be updating fic when I can.
> 
> This is just a small piece about when Bitty arrives in Providence that first summer to visit Jack. A lot if it is introspective about coming out to his parents in a potentially homophobic environment, and there's discussion of a person who was outed against their will, so be warned if that's triggering for you.

Nerves. He didn’t entirely expect them, but he wasn’t surprised by the sudden trembling in his fingers, and the way his knees knocked together. Bitty didn’t really love flying. The last few times he’d been a bit of a mess, but this time felt different. Stranger. Mostly from the anticipation. From knowing what was waiting for him on the other side of the baggage claim.

Jack.

And Bitty wasn’t unfamiliar with Jack. Bitty knew him in ways more intimate than he knew anyone—including himself. He knew what Jack looked like when he slept—the way his mouth hung open slightly, the way his fringe fell over his brow, the way his fingers curled into half fists. 

Bitty had spent the first morning Jack was in Georgia watching him. Up hours before his alarm, just studying the other man because…well…because he was allowed to.

He knew that when Jack started to wake, his left eye opened first. It was bleary, unseeing, adjusting to light. The right followed a little after. Jack rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, yawned, stretched twice, then yawned again.

Maybe it wasn’t every morning, but it was more than one and Bitty had committed it to memory.

He knew Jack ate his veg first, then his proteins. He knew Jack shook his leg when he was nervous, and sometimes he chewed on the collars of his t-shirts. All his favourite ones had mended holes in them.

Bitty knew Jack’s second toe was longer than his first, and that he had a deep arch in his feet, and a mole on his left ankle. He knew Jack hummed when he was thinking—a soft noise just under his breath, that Bitty could only hear since he was allowed to be close enough to Jack now for it.

He knew Jack loved the weight of Bitty, liked to tug Bitty on top of him and hold him there and just exist like that. He knew Jack loved to feel the skin at Bitty’s hip where it was ridged with stretchmarks from a growth spurt at fifteen.

Bitty knew so much about Jack.

But this was all new.

Because it was two weeks before the start of term and Bitty was spending it in Jack’s apartment. Jack, who would be busy with hockey, but would come home to Bitty every night. To his bed where Bitty would wait for him. To his kitchen Bitty would fill with cookies and pies. To his living room where Bitty would sit and watch TV and put his feet on the table when Jack wasn’t looking.

There would be no hiding. Not really. Nothing that a pair of closed curtains couldn’t keep out. They could kiss and touch and exist together without having to worry that someone might work it out. That someone might _know_.

It was the most intimate thing Bitty was about to experience and he was excited.

And he was terrified.

When the plane began to taxi to the gate, Bitty’s trembling increased. The anticipation of being able to touch Jack again had his fingers tingling and his mouth going dry. He took a breath, and double, then triple checked the small carry on he had stowed in front of him. Everything was intact, and his phone chimed with a single text.

**Already here.**

If Bitty’s heart had been racing before, it was nothing compared to this moment.

He took a breath and hated the way it shook. He didn’t want to look like a nervous mess in front of his…whatever Jack was. They hadn’t defined it, and maybe that, too, was confusing him a little. But he knew Jack wanted him and that was enough.

_Almost at the gate. Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart._

Bitty liked the way Jack’s eyes lit up, and his lips quirked up into a smile, and the way his cheeks went mottled pink at every term of endearment that fell from Bitty’s lips. It wasn’t intentional at first—he did it with almost everyone but now…

Oh now it was deliberate. He tucked it safe behind his ribs that he, and he alone, could make Jack warm and soft with just a whisper of words.

He did that.

Jack was his, and those words were for Jack alone.

Bitty didn’t fight to exit the plane. He sat quietly in his seat until most of the had filed by, then he grabbed his things and exited. He had wanted to travel light this year. He wasn’t moving dorms, which meant all of his things could rest comfortably at the haus while he was back in Georgia. He had a single case with his favourite outfits waiting.

The crowd at the carousel was small enough, since the flight had been just about half full, and before long he saw the tag on his case and made a grab for it. His phone buzzed, and he assumed it was Jack, so he left it sat in his pocket.

He licked his lips, and began the short walk to where Jack would be waiting.

He couldn’t really do much in public. Georgia was dangerous, but Providence was volatile. Jack was known here. Jack was a Falconer here. He was already doing press and the Falcs were making the rounds introducing their new starting rookie which meant that Jack had to be careful.

More careful than he ever had been.

And Bitty knew if Jack was outed, he’d be swept up in that tidal wave of media and it would destroy his chances of ever getting to bring his parents in gently. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to do it to begin with, but the idea of it blowing up on ESPN or some chat show was the most terrifying thing Bitty could think of.

He’d seen it exactly once. Trevor Mitchell down the street—he’d been a junior in high school when Bitty had been still in middle. An uncle had found Trevor at some club up in Atlanta, making out with a boy and well…he’d taken it upon himself to “do the right thing” which meant alerting the family and half the street to the boys “homosexual” activities.

It hadn’t gone well.

Bitty never found out what happened to Trevor, but he recalled his parents talking. “Such a shame. Seemed like such a nice boy. That uncle of his should have kept that business quiet though, don’t you think? Not fit for polite conversation.”

And Bitty’s parents had never been openly hostile toward anyone. Seemed like such a nice boy could be in reference to Trevor’s partying, and under-age drinking but…

Bitty didn’t really think that.

He knew better.

He’d been raised better.

His hand was sweaty when he finally turned the corner and saw Jack there. He was dressed in his usual disaster clothes—leggings under shorts, a windbreaker, a hat tucked low over his brow. But there was no mistaking the joy in his smile—Jack couldn’t hide it anymore. There was love on his face and Bitty felt a little nervous, but he hoped maybe he was just biased. Maybe anyone here would think Jack was just a happy guy.

Either way, soon they’d be in the safety of Jack’s apartment—with closed curtains and locked doors.

Bitty offered a smile, and didn’t miss the way Jack’s cheeks went pink.

“Hey, Bittle.”

“Hey, Jack,” Bitty said, and really the name Bittle shouldn’t have made his toes tingle but God the way Jack said it… “I hope I didn’t keep you waitin’ long. Lord, there were so many delays I thought the flight was fixin’ to get cancelled before we even took off.”

Jack bit his bottom lip, then blew out a puff of air. “It wasn’t any trouble. Come on, we can get something to eat on the way home.”

On the way home. 

On the way home.

Like it was their thing. Like it was _theirs_.

Bitty managed a nod and dragged his case along after Jack. He wasn’t parked in underground parking like Bitty had done, so there were no secret kisses in the cab of Jack’s new truck. But the windows were tinted and it allowed the cautious brushing of Jack’s fingers along the lines of Bitty’s palm and lord that was almost more intimate than lips on lips.

Bitty swallowed thickly, then turned his hand to squeeze Jack’s. “Lord, sweetpea, you’d better get me back to your place. I don’t think Providence wants to see the things I have in mind for you.”

Jack didn’t reply, but oh his grin grew and grew.

They stopped for sandwiches—Bitty was craving a lobster roll, and Jack liked the chicken salads at the little place he’d discovered not far from his condo. They packed it all into a neat paper bag, and the smells were enticing, but not nearly as enticing as Bitty being able to touch Jack properly.

It was a gentle sort of hell, having Jack this close, and not being allowed to do what he wanted. But the anticipation only promised to make it sweeter the moment Bitty had freedom to rediscover the body he’d been apart from for nearly a full month.

“I missed you,” Bitty said as Jack turned onto his street.

Jack looked almost startled, like he couldn’t believe for a second Bitty might actually miss him. Bitty had to remind himself that this was all as new to Jack as it was to Bitty. Jack was more experienced, in a way, but he’d confessed he’d never felt like this for anyone—not the way he felt for Bitty. And Jack was Bitty’s first…well…everything.

Bitty’s fingers snuck over and brushed along the inside of Jack’s wrist, and the turn Jack took into his parking space was a little shaky, though he made it just fine without hitting any of the cars on either side.

Bitty managed his case while Jack managed the food, and soon enough, they were inside.

The anticipation almost had Bitty forgetting to be overwhelmed and impressed. But after a second it caught up to him. The place was different. Strange and new, and smelt like Jack, but also nothing like him. It was fresh, hardly lived in. Bitty assumed someone came into clean since Jack was busy so much, and really he’d never been this neat at the haus.

It was sparsely decorated, a smattering of furniture, some of Jack’s photos hung on the walls and in frames on shelves. The kitchen Bitty had seen, in skype and in photos, but running his hands along the granite counters was an experience.

He stared at the marbling colours in the stone until he felt warm hands at his hips, and then he remembered.

They were home.

They could do this now.

Bitty turned in Jack’s grip, lifting both hands to curl in the front of Jack’s shirt. Jack’s palm cupped Bitty’s cheek—his favourite thing to do when he kissed Bitty—and within seconds there was no distance between them at all. Bitty went onto his toes, and Jack ducked his shoulders a little, to make the difference between them easier. Jack’s hips pushed Bitty back against the counter, and their lips danced, hot and wet and just shy of desperate.

When Jack finally pulled away, he only went back far enough to nuzzle their noses, then push his forehead to Bitty’s. “Hey, Bits.”

“That was the greeting I wanted,” Bitty admitted.

Jack’s hand drifted down from Bitty’s cheek, down his ribs, his fingers toying at the waistline of Bitty’s jeans. “Yeah. Me too. Are you hungry or…?”

Bitty knew Jack needed to stay on schedule for everything—as much as he could. Bitty understood it was his nutrition, and his anxiety, and his autism, and really he had no reason to tell Jack no. They had two weeks, and as long as they didn’t sit further apart than arm’s length, what did he care?

They took their food to the sofa, and Jack sat between the V of Bitty’s legs on the floor, Bitty on the sofa. Jack rested his cheek against Bitty’s thigh as he chewed. Ancient Aliens was on in the background, and Bitty was pragmatic enough not to chirp Jack—just like he was pragmatic enough not to chirp him the first time he realised Jack watched the channel not for history—but for reality TV.

“I just…like it.”

Bitty liked it too. It was quirky and wonderful and okay maybe he was a little biased here but getting to see the parts of Jack that his adoring public never would—that half of Samwell and even some of the haus never did…well it mattered. Bitty would never take it for granted.

When he was finished, he wiped his hands on a napkin, then let his fingers drift into Jack’s hair. It was soft, without product, a little mussed from the hat but perfect. Bitty dragged his blunt nails against Jack’s scalp, and felt Jack sigh against his jeans.

“Before you…” Jack stopped, breathed, turned his face and kissed the side of Bitty’s thigh. “There were moments this summer I wasn’t sure we’d actually get here. Visiting your family was nice, but…”

“I know,” Bitty said.

Visiting in Georgia _was_ nice. But it was stolen moments and secret kisses, and exploring each other’s body for the first time with a measure of fear because someone might see. And Bitty hadn’t wanted his first time to have fear. He wanted it to be…something else. Maybe not perfect because who was but…

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Jack said. He sounded smaller than usual, more vulnerable. All Bitty had to do was open his arms, and in seconds they were curled round each other lengthwise on the sofa, trading slow, easy kisses. “It’s ridiculous, I think but…I was afraid you might have changed your mind. After we erm…”

“Yeah,” Bitty said, because the moment Jack’s plane was in the air, Bitty was trembling with fear that Jack regretted it. That maybe Bitty had been terrible or awkward or just not sexy at all and Jack went home to think it all over and decided none of this was worth it. Risking his career for some country boy who…

“But you’re here,” Jack said, interrupting Bitty’s thoughts.

Bitty put a hand to Jack’s cheek. “But I’m here.”

Jack’s mouth was on his again, his tongue a little more insistent, more seeking than lazy. It drew hot and velvet slick across Bitty’s, wetter than before. Jack groaned and Bitty caught it in his mouth, giving it right back with his own. Jack’s fingers went seeking, fingertips brushing warm skin, pushing Bitty’s shirt up, urging the button on his jeans open, the zip down, exposing more, more, more.

Bitty arched his hips against Jack, seeking friction of some kind. He was hard—painfully hard. He’d had nothing but the vision of Jack on the other side of the computer screen. It had been his own hands—one on his dick, one over his mouth to muffle his cries. Jack had wanted Bitty to be loud for him, but there was never any opportunity for it.

Bitty could be loud now.

He arched his back and rutted against Jack’s stroking hand. He opened his mouth and…

“Ah, shit,” Jack said, his own hips stuttering against Bitty’s at the sound of Bitty’s groan. “Bits, Bitty, Bitty…”

Bitty’s fingers searched for Jack, a little clumsy, a little desperate. But Jack’s shorts came down easy with the elastic waist, and then he sat proud and cut and red with swollen desire. Bitty wasted no time getting his hand round Jack, giving him the rhythm he’d learnt by doing, and then by watching again and again, committing every second to memory.

Neither of them lasted long. The orgasm was intense, but small, a little sticky but easy to clean. Bitty used the excuse to slip into his favourite shorts, and he dragged the duvet with him from the bed to the sofa, laughing when Jack shook his head with a grin.

He was tugged onto Jack’s lap, his back heavy against Jack’s chest. Jack’s fingers were on his thigh, on his hip, playing with the rivets in his skin. Jack’s nose was against the back of his neck, nuzzling at the freshly shorn hair there.

“Two weeks,” Jack said.

Bitty grinned, turning his head slightly, so he could kiss the naked spot on Jack’s arm. “Two weeks, sweetpea.”

Jack hummed, content and happy.

Maybe it wouldn’t always be this way. They’d fight eventually—things would happen and they wouldn’t always be on the same page. While Bitty wanted to scream to the heavens he was falling madly in love with this man, he couldn’t. It wasn’t in their cards. Not yet. Probably someday, but the maybe-not hung over Bitty’s head like a pendulum, ticking and mocking.

And it wasn’t all Jack.

Bitty still hadn’t found his courage and he wasn’t sure he knew where he could find it. The thought of losing his parents—his mama who was unforgivingly his best friend, and his daddy who loved him in spite of him never living up to what Coach had wanted him to be…

Bitty was a grown man with a future ahead of him and a lot of promise, but he didn’t want to do it alone. He couldn’t burden Jack or his friends with filling in a space where his parents belonged.

But he couldn’t hide forever, either.

He thought about the summer. About how it might feel to bring Jack home one day, and not as the guy who helped Bitty with hockey, but as the man he was unequivocally devoted to—probably for the rest of his life. At the very least, as long as Jack would have him.

“You’re thinking really loud, bud,” Jack’s voice murmured at the back of his ear.

Bitty sighed. “Sorry. I love you, baby.”

Jack snuffled a laugh. “I love you too, but I have a feeling that wasn’t what was on your mind.”

Bitty sighed, but his heart warmed because Jack knew him. Jack had paid enough attention—as much attention as Bitty paid. This wasn’t one-sided and that was…a lot. In a good way but a lot. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. It’s all blue and melancholy and I don’t want to ruin our first night together.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully, and hitched Bitty a little closer, then placed three careful kisses against his neck. “You don’t have to tell me now, or ever. But whatever it is couldn’t ruin this. You’re with me.”

Bitty smiled, shifting so he was mostly on his side. The sound of Jack’s heart against his ear was comforting. The feeling of Jack’s fingers in his hair, brushing down toward his neck, was soothing. “It’s just…life stuff. The future. I don’t…there’s no guarantees and I just…I love you so much and that’s a little scary.”

“I know,” Jack said, and he sounded like he meant it. “This is…different for me. I…I like to have control over things—as much as I can, and I don’t…I can’t predict the future. I can’t tell when—if—this will end up too much for you and you want to…”

“I don’t,” Bitty said, and he turned his face up, lifting himself enough to kiss Jack on the mouth once, twice, three times. “I mean, I can’t say I never will. I don’t know but…I’m as certain as I’ll ever be and right now I can’t imagine a single thing that would make me ever want to walk away from this.”

Jack didn’t reply, just tucked Bitty back in close. “We’ll get through it. All of it.”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “Seems so early to be dealin’ with this mess. We’ve only been…what we are a little while and I just…”

“A little while, but two years, Bits,” Jack reminded him. “I might have been stuck in my own head and I didn’t realise what I wanted—what I could’ve had—but it doesn’t mean…what we had wasn’t…” Jack stopped, breathing through his struggle with words, but he didn’t seem upset. He just brushed his fingers along the edge of Bitty’s jaw and his sleepy blue eyes drank him in. “You’ve always been important to me.”

Bitty felt his heart lighten, felt his body relax. Nothing about that was false, and he knew then that Jack was right. They’d get through it. When the time came and Bitty had to face that mess, Jack would be there. And they’d get through it.

“I’m so happy I’m here, sweetheart.”

Jack grinned at him, being down to kiss him again. “I am too.”

“Two weeks,” Bitty said.

Jack laughed softly. “Two weeks.”


End file.
